The Wedding Planner
by ellapuppy
Summary: not a happy ever after ending
1. Chapter 1

They didn't need beer. They really didn't need anything. But he did, he needed to get the hell out of the house, so he used beer as an excuse and left. Now there he was the day before he was supposed to get married, sitting all alone on a park bench trying to figure out if what he was feeling was anything at all like what he was supposed to be feeling, not that it mattered. He was just curious.

Cold feet, they called it and he understood the concept. Fear of commitment, fear of failure, of change. Just how did that differ from cold heart which was a far better description of his own personal truth. He had started retreating into himself about two weeks ago just as he'd expected he would. It was what he did when things got emotional, a reflex so bred into him that he simply accepted it, planned on it, in fact.

Cold feet-cold heart. He began to set up the white board in his mind. Differential for cold feet and heart. He defined cold heart, added some made up test results and some more symptoms and, yeah, there were a few things that might present that way. It felt comfortable, familiar making a diagnosis, planning a treatment.

it made him feel good enough to go back to the house and try faking it again, Pretend he was a character in one of his soap operas. The two star crossed doctors finally getting together. "It'll never last", he heard the voice of one of his favorite characters say. "Of course not", he thought. In soap operas things never lasted and not much more than that in real life. That he was completely at peace with that thought was proof he'd gotten to his "safe place". From now on until the wedding he'd be on auto pilot. And that, he felt, was a good thing. He was less likely to screw up when he was like this. Sure, he wouldn't endear himself to his new in-laws with warm embraces or sentimental sighs, but he also wouldn't totally piss them off by telling them exactly what he though of them and their ridiculous ceremony.

But, as Wilson had pointed out, it was only fair. They most likely were not telling him what they really thought about having a balding, crippled ex-addict join the family.

And just where the hell was Wilson? He hit 1 on the speed dial but got the same message, "Unavailable".

"That is just pathetic, dude. You are soooo far off your game.'

House grimaced, he'd been half expecting this.  
"Hey Lucas"  
"Hey House'  
Lucas came and sat beside him on the bench.

"Since I'm the one getting married tomorrow, just what game am I supposed to be off of?' House asked with a slight smile.

"That's whats so sad. You don't even know you're in one." Lucas stretched his arms over his head. "Don't feel bad, to be honest, I'm a bit off myself. See, I didn't figure I would have to be the one to tell you. The way I had it planned, Cuddy would tell you, you'd freak out and do something stupid and she'd see what a hopeless loser you are and dump your sorry ass."

"Getting married tomorrow," House puffed out his cheecks, "don't have time for this."

"Got time to get a new best man?" Lucas asked.

In a split second House had his cane planted firmly in the center of Lucas' left foot.

"Yeah," the younger man said through clenched teeth. Years of using a cane had given the old bastard an unexpectedly strong arm. "That's the reaction I wanted Lisa to see."

House leaned forward slightly, increasing the pressure, coming very close to breaking a lot of small bones.

"Ok, OK. She didn't mention seeing Sam yesterday?" Lucas blurted it out.

House took the cane off his foot and held it like a club. He said nothing, he didn't need to.

"Big fight day before yesterday. She left him, He threw her out, not sure which. I had a couple of bugs in there from before but they stopped transmitting. Must be the batteries." Lucas looked concerned his equipment had failed him.

"And Cuddy knows" House asked softly.

"Yeah, she must. Like I said, she had lunch with Sam the next day. Gave her $1,000 to get back to her parents." Lucas paused. His eyes shifted to the cane in House's hand. Despite all his bravado, he'd always thought the old man was more unstable than most people realized. "then she called Wilson.'

Without saying a word, House got up and started walking across the street. His limp was bad.

Lucas waited not sure where he was going. His motorcylce was parked in the opposite direction, and there weren't any bars over there. "That's it," he smiled. "He's going to the ATM." Lucas got up to follow. House getting money was never a bad thing.

"Here" House handed him some bills. "$500 now. I'll be at the apartment after ten tonight. 500 more for a full report. Keep an eye on him, make sure he's alright. If you think anything is wrong then call me." House looked away, embarrassed, but what the hell, it was his money. " Another 500 if you can get me pictures."

"Sure" Lucas took the money and stuffed it in his pants pocket. "Report's about done anyway. But if you want a full 24/7 stake out it'll be a thousand a day."

"Fine", House said as started to walk away. "And Lucas, don't screw things up anymore than you already have." 


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't stay at the house as long as he had planned to. Not because he was anxious to get to the apartment, but just because it wasn't necessary.

The closer they came to the big day, the less important he seemed. Sitting all alone in the backyard, nursing a beer, all he could think about was that this must be what it had been like for the sacrificial bulls back in the day. All tied up, put aside, just watching the peasants scrambling, laughing, cooking, setting up altars. A slow smile started, "wonder if any of them ever pulled free and gored the hell out of the bastards." Damn, he needed to get out of there, now.

But before he could stand up, one of Cuddy's little neices came running up to him. Her tiny arms outstretched, a small insistent voice "up up up up up" And right behind her, the mom grinning and shrugging. So sure nobody would ever be able to resist those big blue eyes. But House knew children's eyes weren't in proportion to the rest of their face. It wasn't cute it was just an anatomical fact.

He stood up and went into the kitchen. His mom was there. Even she had barely spoken to him today. Keeping busy laughing and talking with the other women. She looked relaxed and content. "Good for you" he thought.

Since his Dad's death, she'd started living a whole new life and living it to the fullest, making up for all those years of demands, conflicts and denials. She wasn't looking back, refused to look back. And now her Greg getting married was just closing another chapter in that sad, sad book.

He had the impression that all this was nothing more than an amusing interruption and tomorrow night she would fly back to Savannah and disappear into that new life. He'd hear from her even less than he did now, and that was alright, half the time he didn't know what to say to her anyway.

Lisa was in their bedroom, her bedroom. It depended on how pissed she was at him or how pleased she was with herself. There was a bunch of women and girls and about a hundred bottles of nail polish.

He finally got her caught her eye and gave her his "need to talk" look. And there it was, a half second of fear, of doubt that she was going to be able to pull this off. OK, he'd seen what he needed to see. A big reassuring smile, that almost reached his eyes.

"I'm going to the apartment." he said.

"So soon? We'll be having dinner in an hour. Uncle Robert is coming. You know how much he wants to meet you."

Sure, Uncle Robert. An old quack working off his partner's reputation and already bragging about his relationship to the famous Dr. House.

"We'll talk tomorrow, I promise. I seriously need to get away." another smile, this one meant to appear apologetic. "Maybe I'll call Wilson, Go out for a drink."

"Oh, no. I didn't get a chance to tell you. Sam called, Wilson is in New York, Got called in to consult on some big shot. Won't be back until late tonight, maybe even early tomorrow morning. Sam says he has his phone off, but he promised to call her later."

"He'll make the wedding, won't he?"

A brief flash of sympathy. At least she felt bad. "I'm sure. He wouldn't miss it for anything."

A quick kiss on the check and she was back with the giggles and the nail polish.

House just stood there feeling more alone than he had felt in a long time.

God, it felt like freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

It was too early to go to the apartment. He'd get drunk or worse. Couldn't go past Wilson's, he'd definietly do something stupid there.

So no apartment, no Wilson, no bars and by default no strip clubs. What was left: speed. He was already on the motorcylce, had time to get to the country. Knew of one perfect isolated road, straight enough for him to take it up to a completely illegal velocity. He'd never seen a cop there, never even seen another person which meant that besides the speed, he could loose the helmet. Boy, he loved that.

So would Wilson. He'd need an excuse to blow up about something besides Sam. This would be perfect cause it would be real, honest anger. Wilson hated the bike. The bike with speed and no helmet would put him into ballistic mode. The only question, how to work it into the conversation. Lying 101, simple. He'd tell him he might need to borrow some money because he'd gotten a ticket. Give Wilson an excuse to interrogate him, give him the chance to deflect. Let the facts come out slowly, let him build up a good, hands on hips fury. That was the plan. He started the engine. If Wilson was going to rip into him for speeding without a helmet he was at least going to get the thrill of actually doing it.

He got to the apartment at about nine. Checked his messages. Two from the hospital, three from Cuddy and three wanting to discuss credit card consolidation. He answered the ones from the hospital, fixed a bourbon and water and drew a hot bath, It'd calm him down and help with the leg pain.

He wasn't worried about the meeting with Lucas. Lucas was nothing more than an interesting pawn. He thought that because he could use facts to control people he was a player. Using people to control facts, now that was the mark of a real puppet master. No sense trying to explain the difference to Lucas. He'd never understand the subtleties-or worse he would. Then he might try and up his game and really screw somebody over.

He'd just finished getting dressed when the door opened.

"He kicked her out."

"Why?'

"Better if you don't know. Easier to look surprised when he tells you the dirty details, Plus this way you won't be tempted to take off after her."

"And it is just a coincidence this all came out just a few days before the wedding?" House fixed himself another bourbon, making a show of not offering one to Lucas.

"Look, the info was legit." Lucas went into the kitchen and got himself a beer. "People pay me good money to find out this kind of stuff. Now the timing might have been manipulated."

"Why?" House sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table, Lucas took the chair to his right. "You really thought she would kick me out if I got all worried about Wilson?"

"Maybe, If not, I figure'd once you knew Sam was gone, and he was pining for some tea and sympathy then you'd run like an escapee from the asylum, Don't forget, I was with you in Conn. I know what you were like when you thought you were loosing him. I was sure you'd at least flip out and mess up the wedding, That was enough for me."

"And then she'd be yours again? That was your plan?" House smiled, it was like playing chess with a chimp.

"Don't want her. You should see what I'm nailing now. Younger, sexier, less drama, no brat and more money. At least once her divorce is finalized, thanks to some primo pics I took."

"So this was just to mess with me?"

"Hell, no. I like you. I'm giving you your life back, I'm giving you an out. Don't even try and tell me that little 95 mph victory run had anything to do with Liza. No, this was to mess with her, the bitch." Lucas got up to get another beer. "About that $500 you said you'd give me for photos."

"Yeah"

"No pictures, he's got the curtains closed, watching a lot of TV, He's fine. But, I've got tapes of his phone calls. The last one's from this morning. Him and Liza."

"Play it"

Wilson "Has he even asked about me?"  
Cuddy: "Of course he has."  
Wilson: "So what are you telling him. God, he must think I've abandoned him, This isn't right."  
Cuddy: "If there were any other way. But you know him. The worse, he'll take off after Sam, at the least he'll be miserable the whole day and that will ruin everything. This is my day, our day my whole family is here, everything is perfect. I can't let him mess that up."  
Wilson: I know, I know, It's just...maybe if I called him.  
Cuddy: No, not before the wedding, Look we're not leaving for the honeymoon until late the next day. I promise, we'll come by the apartment first, We can both explain it to him then."  
Wilson: "I don't know, I don't want him to hate me"  
Cuddy: "He could walk in and find you doing his mother and he wouldn't hate you,"  
Wilson: "Not now, I need him not to hate me now."

"Shut it off." House got up and went over to his closet, took his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

"Here's what I owe you and another thousand for tomorrow."

"You want a full stake out tomorrow?"

"Of course," House went back to the couch, "I can't do anything. I'm getting married."

"And the next day?" Lucas wasn't following , how long did House want this to go on.

"I'm free the next day"

It took a minute but finally Lucas nodded. He got it. "You son of a bitch. Why go through with it?"

"You heard her," House poured another bourbon, "She doesn't want me to ruin her day."

Lucas got up to leave but just as he reached the door House called him back.

"$200," he threw the bills on the coffee table, "Tell me exactly what she said to you that night."

"I'll do that for free. Lucas, I'm sorry, I thought it would work, I tried to make it work, Wanted it to work, but my heart just isn't here. I have to go,"


	4. Chapter 4

It was a nice wedding, like all nice weddings. The groom was a little buzzed but maybe that's not so unusual. After Lucas left, he'd gone out and found some old contacts. He bought two joints, one to help him sleep and one to help him get through the next day and a handful of Vicodin, enough to pop one every six hours until this thing was done. He'd driven past Wilson's too.

The only suspense was how Cuddy was going to explain Wilson's not being there. About a half an hour before the ceremony was set to start she sent Chase to his dressing room with some stupid story about test results and traffic, and so sorry, but they needn't wait for him. Chase would fill in.

The only concern he had was that Cuddy might notice how dialated his pupils were, but she was so involved in being the bride that she never noticed.

The only fun he had was when he went outside for a breath of air and found her fourteen year old nephew smoking pot. The look on the kid's face when, instead of yelling, "Uncle" Greg just took it out of his mouth and pulled the longest drag the kid had ever seen, instant favorite uncle status. Not bad weed either.

He left the window open on the drive home. Helped wake him up a bit. Cuddy was nearly manic and more than a little drunk. Kept telling him about this big surprise she was planning. Once home she ran straight to the bathroom to change, The surprise apparently being some kind of sexy outfit she'd picked up on the internet.

"This is just for tonight," she called through the closed door. "I can't believe women used to actually wear these things."

OK, most likely something with a garter belt. Crap, that could have been fun. But he just kept packing clothes into his backpack.

He was still doing it, when she came into the room. He'd been right: red garter belt and stockings and a very lacy teddy.

"No, silly, " she was definetly more than a little drunk. "We'll pack in the morning,"

He looked up and smiled, took a deep breath to slow down his speech,  
"I'm sorry, I thought it would work, I tried to make it work, wanted it to work But my heart just isn't here. I have to go."

She sobered up quickly. "What the hell are you talking about?" Even the red garter belt couldn't make her sexy now. "Lucas, when did you talk to Lucas ?"

"Yesterday."

" Why are you doing this? What did that bastard tell you?"

He pulled the small tape recorder out of his pocket and set it on the bedstand and hit the play button.  
"I don't know. I don't want him to hate me"

She heard her own voice making a stupid remark about his mother.

Then the sentence that ended any chance of his forgiving her. Wilson's voice childlike and pleading "Not now. I need him not to hate me now."

She picked up the recorder and shut it off.

"So why? You could have told me you knew. Why would you go through with it ? Just to humiliate me? To make me a laughing stock, to.." she couldn't finish.

He just stood there as if he were waiting for something.

"Wilson understood, he didn't care." she started.

He didn't move, didn't respond. Gave her no hope. He finally reached down and picked up his backpack and started toward the door.

"You son of a bitch" she screamed as she threw the tape recorder at his head.

"Come on, you call me that every day." He was actually smiling when he turned around. "You're much more pissed off than that."

"You bastard."

"Try harder, you call me that when I'm late with budget reports."

"Lying piece of crap"

"Not there yet, but on the right road."

"Manipulative lunatic"

'Getting there, keep going, "

"lazy bum"

"Probably true"

"Heartless Ass"

"Definelty true. Almost there, Keep going, You can do it, You want to do it."

But she stopped. She closed her eyes, barely able to catch her breath. He started walking toward her.

"Say it"

She shook her head.

"Say it" he was closer now.

"Don't, please"

"Say it."

She turned away from him, but he caught her chin in his hand and forced her to face him.

"Say it"

"I can"t"

"SAY IT"

"No"

"SAY IT"

"Please"

"SAY IT"

"YOU FUCKING FAGGOT"

"And there it is, the bridge burner. Good for you." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.


	5. Chapter 5

Wilson was just sitting on the couch. No television, no music, no books, no food. He did have a glass of bourbon on the coffee table, which he admitted to himself was a total channeling of House since he didn't actually like bourbon and only had it in the apartment in case House wanted some. But he did like the smell and it looked warm and comforting in that cut crystal glass.

It was so quiet, in fact, that he heard the key turning and the door opening. "Damn," he thought, "If he dragged Cuddy over here on their wedding night she is going to be pissed." He'd dealt with all the pissed off women he planned on dealing with for a long time.

He started to stand when he heard the most reassuring sound,

"Honey, I'm home. Please tell me we're not out of beer."

He turned to see House, unaccompanied, limping across the hall, tossing his backpack in the general direction of his old bedroom. His leg was bad, really bad. He plopped down on the couch and reached for the remote.

"You getting the beer?" His smile, the raised eyebrows, all good.

"Sure" Wilson started for the kitchen.

"As long as you're in the there, make me a sandwich." and there it was, House wanting to be fed. Everything back to normal.

"I've got some take out Chinese left over, how about that?"

"Sounds good"

"It'll just take a minute to heat up." Wilson was already opening the microwave.

"No, don't bother, Just bring it cold."

No response. House waited.

"You can't eat it cold. "

Damn, he was going to be in one of his little girl moods, "Of course I can, I'd eat it cold if I were home. Just bring me the food, and the BEER."

Wilson came in carrying two beer bottles in one hand and a plate of Orange sesame chicken in the other. He handed House the one beer, put the other on the coffee table and stood there.

"This looks like hell. Let me heat it up."

"It looks fine, just hand me the damned plate." House reached out for the food, running out of patience.

Confused, Wilson actually looked confused, as if House had told him to jump off a cliff or punch a cop. "No." He turned towards the kitchen, plate in hand.

By the time he got back House had found the porno channel and was totally engrossed.

"See, it even looks better warm" he said as he handed him the plate. "And you're welcome."

"Shhhh, this is my favorite part."

"Porno, you came over here on your wedding night to watch porno?" this did nothing to help Wilson's general confusion.

"Well, since it is my wedding night, I figured the least I can do is jerk off." he said as he drained half the beer.

"Makes sense."

"No, it doesn't" House hated to admit it, but the food was better warmed up,

Wilson tried to look interested but he wasn't really into the lesbian stuff all that much, What he was was restless, tapping his feet to the background music, tearing the label off the beer bottle and sneaking glances over at House every few seconds. "Anything you want to talk about?" He finally asked.

"Am I talking?" Damn, he knew he should have picked something else. Might have kept Wilson's interest with a straight Debbie Does Dallas thing.

Wilson took House's cane and started bouncing it up and down on the floor between his feet.  
Funny, as long as he had been doing that himself, House had never realized until just that minute how totally annoying it was.

More fleeting glances in House's direction, pinching his nose, rocking back and forth.

"Anything you want to ask me?"

That was when House gave up. He turned down the volume, funny how much that pounding music added to the atmosphere, and reached out for the glass of bourbon and shot it down. He leaned back on the couch and shut his eyes, enjoying the last few minutes of peace he would know that night. He had really hoped he was going to be able to get through this evening without having to "defuse" Wilson. At least he'd had the foresight to put a plan in place. Might as well use it and the bike ride had been amazing.

"Actually, there is something I need to ask you. Any chance I might be able to borrow some money?"


End file.
